


Trouble in Paradise

by queen_scribbles



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Light Side Sith Warrior, Light-Side Jaesa Willsaam, Male-Female Friendship, Missing Scene, Rakghouls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 13:11:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18801028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_scribbles/pseuds/queen_scribbles
Summary: What was supposed to be a simple investigative mission quickly turns into much more than Tragen and Jaesa bargained for.





	Trouble in Paradise

 

He had a bad feeling about this.

Tragen had learned long before his Sith training, to trust his gut. He’d since figured out it was less his gut and more the Force, but what it heralded was the same. Which was why, when dread curled through him, he stopped Jaesa with an outstretched arm. “Wait.”

She froze in her tracks and shot him a questioning look. “Master?”

“Something isn’t right.” He could have done without the ominous breeze that picked that moment to blow through, ruffling their hair and clothes.

“You mean besides the fact we haven’t seen another living soul since we touched down?” Jaesa said wryly, brushing back her hair.

Despite the danger, Tragen couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yes, besides that.”

“Good to know I wasn’t being paranoid.” She surveyed the remaining distance between the shuttle landing pad and the resort building. “I thought it was just me. So, what do we do?”

“We proceed.” He really didn’t care for how lacking in light the whole area was. “With caution.”

Jaesa nodded and fell in step behind him a good ten paces as they resumed course for the building. Neither of them spoke the remaining distance, hands drifted halfway toward the hilts of their lightsabers. Nothing happened, which was almost worse, as the sense of _wrongness_ didn’t abate.

There should be something, some evidence of why a resort like this had gone abruptly and completely silent. But there wasn’t. No bodies, no signs of attack, no lingering odor of anything airborne. Just silence and the seemingly empty building. Tragen could see why the Twilight Paradise’s investors had been looking for a “skilled individual” to investigate. Something about the scenario made the blood run cold.

A faint sound broke the silence as they reached the first doorway, a rustle or chitter from inside, and Tragen barely restrained himself from igniting one lightsaber. It had probably been curious wildlife, there was no reason to be so jumpy--

Something grey and spiny charged at them with an unholy cry halfway between a roar and a howl, closing the distance faster than should be possible.

Tragen swore as his hands closed around the hilts of his ‘sabers, but Jaesa was faster. The pale green blades of her lightsaber blazed through the air as she swung the weapon in an instinct-driven attack. It struck true; the headless corpse of their would-be attacker dropped less than a foot away.

_That’s a..._ He drew his lightsabers but didn’t ignite them. He had a very, _very_ bad feeling about this. “How the hell did a rakghoul get off Taris, let alone _here_?!”

“Don’t look at me,” Jaesa shrugged as she shut down her lightsaber. The silence seemed to ring with the absence of the comforting hum. “I’m as lost as you.”

“Right. Well, definitely be on your guard,” he muttered, liking the view of winding hallways and blind corners even less now. “Where there’s one rakghoul, there’s always more.”

They both knew why, they’d seen it on Taris.

Jaesa’s knuckles went white around the lightsaber’s hilt. “We’re still checking for survivors, though, aren’t we, master?”

“Of course,”Tragen assured her. This was a civilian facility, not a military installation. He’d never be able to live with himself if they didn’t. “We should eradicate all the rakghouls, anyway, we can sweep for survivors as we go.”

She nodded, and he could see the relief mingled with trepidation in her eyes.  “Alright. Do you want me to take point?”

He shook his head, fingers sliding to rest over the power switches on his lightsabers. “I’ll do it. You watch my back.”

Another nod. “As you you say.”

The first few rooms they passed were empty, though so thoroughly wrecked it look as if someone had tossed in a grenade, not unleashed vaguely sentient monsters. The horrible rising tension made Tragen itch to flick on his ‘sabers, just to be prepared. But the extra fraction of a second it would save wasn’t worth surrendering the element of surprise. He restrained himself, though it grew more difficult with every room void of rakghouls and survivors both.

_Where is everyone?_ Jaesa was wondering the same; he could see it in her face when he glanced behind him. A resort facility this large, they should have encountered someone--or some _thing_ \--by now. 

The next door he tried was locked. Tragen raised an eyebrow, then looked back at Jaesa and gave a nod. _Be ready_. He clipped one lightsaber back to his belt and knocked on the door. “Is anyone in there?”

No answer. No sound of any kind--which, sainted _stars_ was unnerving. He tried again, slightly louder, with the same result. Despite the lack of reply, he could hear someone in the room, and even knowing it was probably rakghouls he couldn’t just walk away without checking. He ignited the lightsaber still in his hand and drove the orange blade through the door. It wasn’t reinforced at all and he easily sheared a large hole.

With the same howling roar as the one outside, a trio of rakghouls hurled themselves through the opening. One’s trajectory impaled it on his still-ignited blade, but Tragen and Jaesa were forced to dodge the other two. They quickly assumed a back to back combat stance.

Fortunately, rakghouls were dangerous more for their ferocity than their intelligence, and these were no exception. They charged in with lumbering speed and clearly telegraphed strikes that were child’s play to avoid. There was a brief rush of cool air behind him as Jaesa lunged forward with a swipe of her own, green blades humming through the air. She scored a hit across the chest of one rakghoul and it screeched angrily as the pungent odor of burned flesh filled the air.

“ _Gaah_ , that’s one thing I didn’t miss about Taris,” Jaesa muttered as she stepped back, close enough Tragen could feel the warmth of her presence behind him again.

“Agreed,” Tragen said with a chuckle, not taking his eyes off the rakghoul menacing him. He calculated the angle, hoped he had it right, and tossed one lightsaber with a sharp flick of his wrist.

He’d had it right. His lightsaber nearly bisected the rakghoul before returning to his hand. He swiveled to help Jaesa just in time to watch her roll one shoulder back to avoid the injured rakghoul’s retaliatory swipe.

She spun her lightsaber and cut off half its arm, then stepped back into the space Tragen had just vacated. The rakghoul scrambled after her and she cut it down with a hard strike to the base of its neck.

“Nice work,” Tragen said, deactivating his lightsabers and letting them hang loosely in his hands.

“Thank you, master,” Jaesa replied with a breathless smile. “It’s tricky fighting something you have to avoid entirely.”

He nodded agreement,peering into the room and wincing at the pair of bodies on the floor. “You know what we need?”

“A preventative shot of the rakghoul vaccine?”

He snorted a half-laugh at the gallows humor-- and the truth at its heart--as he brushed his hair back behind his ears. “Besides that, then. A staff roster, guest list, something like that. So we know how many people were here when it started. What we’re potentially facing.”

“We’d need the front desk or a computer hub,” Jaesa said thoughtfully, brushing hair out of her eyes. “And we’d have to check all the rooms, even ones that are silent. To... count.” She looked ill at the thought.

Tragen rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It will be worth it for the peace of mind. Both for us, and the families we can notify.”

“Closure, I know.” She nodded. “I’ll keep my eyes open.”

It wasn’t too much farther before the hallway bent around a corner, which Tragen and Jaesa rounded cautiously. There were no rakghouls lying in wait, but there was a hospitality kiosk set into the wall just past the corner.

“Keep an eye out while I see what I can find,” Tragen instructed as he clipped his lightsabers to his belt and stepped into the small alcove.

Jaesa nodded. “As you wish.” The glimmer of a smile pulled at her lips as she took up a defensive stance facing the hallway. “How much has Vette managed to teach you?”

“Enough that slicing into a non-military system shouldn’t give me too much trouble.”

She laughed softly at that, and then both of them fell silent under the gravity of their circumstances and turned their focus to the tasks at hand.

It only took a minute or two for Tragen to download the information they needed to his datapad. It was not encouraging.

“Full staffing complement of sixty, room for thrice as many guests...” Tragen sighed. “This is turning into a nightmare.”

“Were they full?” Jaesa asked, expression horrified at the thought. 

He checked. “No, thank the stars. Twenty staff and... fifty guests. Seventy if you include the personal aides some brought, which I suppose we should.”

They went back to the room and were able to ID the bodies, both staff. There was no way to tell for the rakghouls, however, aside from finding all the bodies and any survivors and then assuming anyone unaccounted for had... changed. He was going to have nightmares for weeks. And a look at Jaesa as they pressed on--fighting rakghouls, identifying the dead when they could--made him think she felt the same. They’d accounted for almost half the people who were supposedly here, though only a fraction could be ID’ed, when Tragen’s pounding on a locked door brought not rasping chitters but a shaky, “Who’s there?”

“Help,” Tragen replied, shooting Jaesa a surprised and wary look. “Open the door.”

“H-How do I know you won’t turn into one of those... monsters?”

“You don’t,” he bluntly. “But we are the only rescue that’s coming. And how do I know _you_ won’t turn?”

There was silence, and then the muffled roll of multiple voice in pitched debate before the door hissed and slid open.

“Who are you, then?” demanded the man closest to the door, clearly a noble from his dress and manner both.

Tragen’s own posture straightened in response, years of childhood lessons not allowing otherwise. “Lord Tragen Xo’ric, and my apprentice, Jaesa Wilsaam. We were investigating at the behest of Senet Tyral. What happened here?”

There was a derisive snort from one of the other nobles, a woman whose intricate hairstyle was just beginning to unravel. “You can blame Arik Thul for that, my lord. The fool thought the Twilight Paradise would be the perfect place to unwind after serving a tour on Taris, and I hear he rushed or skipped some of his people through the departure procedures so he didn’t lose any of his reservation time.” She scowled. “You can see how that ended.”

“I can,” Tragen nodded. There weren’t even ten people in the room; five nobles, one’s personal attendant, a pair of bodyguards. “How did you escape?”

“Heard screaming and locked ourselves in,” the first man replied. “We’re lucky; this room is meant as a meditation chamber so the walls are thick. If we hadn’t heard, we’d be dead or worse.”

_Worse, indeed._ Tragen repressed a shudder. “So none of you came in contact with any rakghouls?”

“Not for a moment,” the woman declared. “How do you plan to get us out of here?”

He glanced at Jaesa and she gave a subtle _all clear_ nod. None of them were lying by omission; they all believed they were uninfected. “For now, you’re going to stay here, with the door locked. My apprentice and I need to finish clearing the facility of hostiles. Once it’s safe, we can evacuate you.”

“What if you don’t come back?” piped up a small, nervous man in the back of the room. 

It was a good question. They’d been lucky or skilled enough so far, but either of those could run out at any time. “We came in a shuttle. It’s on the east wing landing pad. If we’re not back in an hour, run for it. But give us time to clear more of the rakghouls or it’ll be a bigger death wish than staying here.”

They all nodded understanding and Tragen left, beckoning Jaesa to follow. The door slid shut so close behind them it almost snagged the trailing scarves of Jaesa’s armor.

 “Nervous bunch,” she commented, “not that I blame them.”

“The only thing that bothers me is how they know what happened if they locked themselves in as soon as they heard screams,” he murmured.

Jaesa thought for a moment. “One of the bodyguards probably linked into the security feeds when they arrived. Most do, even in places that frown on it. The safety of their patron is paramount.”

Something in her voice made him think that was experience, not just a guess. So he simply grunted in reply as they kept walking.

A few moments’ silence lapsed before Jaesa spoke again. “Master... what’s to stop them from running for the shuttle _now_ , without us?”

“Well, nothing, if they decide not to heed my warning,” Tragen shrugged. “But we can always have the others pick us up in the _Dawn_ as a last resort. After the place is clear. It would just mean a bit of a wait.”

“So long as you have a plan,” she said, inclining her head.

“Did you ID our survivors?” he asked in return, pausing to glance down a new hallway.

Jaesa nodded. “The one who opened the door is Pascal Vinick, the woman’s Asha Dellis, the nervous one is Jorman Ryk...” she ran through names for the others as they walked and Tragen did his best to commit them to memory.

“Alright, then,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s clear the rest of this place out.”

<><><>

It was an arduous task that took almost all of the allotted hour, but they did eradicate all the rakghouls they found in the place. Between the numbers of those, and the dead bodies they matched to the staff and guest lists, almost everyone was accounted for, numbers-wise if not specifically. There weren’t any other survivors, though Tragen held out ever-dimming hope until the end. But there was no evidence the handful they hadn’t found were anything but rakghoul food, ghastly as the thought was.

After double-checking the last suite, he and Jaesa headed back to the meditation room and the waiting nobles. They were both silent, despite it being no longer necessary; drained both physically and emotionally and in no mood for conversation.

They collected the nobles, with minor protests about the danger from Dellis and Ryk, and were halfway back to the shuttle when the ground trembled. Without a word, or breaking stride, Tragen and Jaesa drew their weapons. Ryk made a small, worried noise when Jaesa shepherded him along, stumbling over his own feet.

The tremor came again, and Tragen cursed under his breath. Rakghouls were _burrowers_ , how had he forgotten?

Sure enough, just as they exited the building, the ground shook and rumbled, then tore open to disgorge a trio of rakghouls.

“ _Dammit!_ ” Tragen ignited his lightsabers. “Jaesa, get them to the shuttle!”

“What?!” she snapped, surprise edging the word. “Not without you!”

“I’m right behind you, _go_!” he snapped back, spinning to face the rakghouls. Two were small and runty grey, but the third made up for any perceived advantage he may have had. Red and gargantuan, it almost trampled its cohorts in its rush to attack.

Jaesa was beside him in a whirl of green blades and teal robes, cutting down one of the runts. “I’m not leaving, master!”

Tragen threw one lightsaber in a vicious arc toward the big rakghoul’s head. He grabbed her arm with his--briefly--free hand and pushed her toward the shuttle.  “Get them safely aboard”--he caught the returning lightsaber--”and start warming up the engines so we can get out of here!”

With one last reluctant glance, Jaesa did as he asked. The big rakghoul swiped at her as she ran, and Tragen wasn’t quite fast enough to block it. Nasty claws snagged the trailing teal scarves of her armor, shredding one and ripping the lower half of the other one clean off.

Tragen let out a Force-amplified roar that had both remaining rakghouls cowering. He cut down the second runt in the breathing room that afforded him, but the big one recovered faster than he expected and he was forced to backpedal away from angry slashing claws. Behind him, the shuttle engines whined to life, and he drove the rakghoul back with a brutal two-blade strike so he could risk a glance in that direction.

_Almost, almost, almost._ Just a few more seconds’ delay and he could light out for the still lowered boarding ramp. It would be nice to kill this thing first, though. Be able to report they had neutralized the entire colony before it had a chance to become a real threat. He threw himself at the rakghoul, lightsabers buzzing in opposed arcs, and scored two cuts across its chest.

The rakghoul bellowed and lashed out in the same moment Tragen sensed Jaesa’s presence moving closer again. The distraction of the latter kept him from fully avoiding the former, and the claws tore through robes, armor, and flesh to send him tumbling.

“Master!” he heard Jaesa cry out as he fought through the waves of pain.

_And we were doing so well,_ he thought wryly. Gritting his teeth, Tragen rolled onto his back--

\--and immediately crab-scuttled backwards to get away from the charging rakghoul. It bellowed angrily when its strikes missed, and he flung the lightsaber he _hadn’t_ dropped at its head.

It was a rushed toss, and he missed, sort of. The blade carved deep into its shoulder instead. Still enough to further injure the seriously wounded monster, even if it wasn’t his goal. Whether by luck or some perverse instinct, the rakghoul batted his lightsaber out of the air as it spun back towards him, and the hilt went flying to the side.

“ _Tragen!!_ ” Jaesa had moved past concerned and now sounded alarmed, voice louder as the engines shifted pitch, nearly take-off ready.

Weaponless but not defenseless, Tragen ignored the pain in his chest and scrambled back a few more paces before throwing out one hand to push a wave of crushing Force toward the rakghoul. In the same heartbeat that took hold, he felt the Force wrap around _him_ and yank him backwards toward the shuttle, faster than he would have been able to move on his own even uninjured. He barely missed crashing into Jaesa when he hit the boarding ramp, only vaguely registered the clatter of his lightsabers landing next to him through a fresh jolt of pain.

Jaesa scooped up his lightsabers with one hand and grabbed his arm with the other, half-supporting and half-dragging him into the shuttle. They collapsed just inside the cargo bay as the door closed, Tragen hissing pained breaths between clenched teeth and Jaesa already calling the Force to aid them. “Let me see, master.”

A hand closed over her shoulder and jerked her back. “Get away from him!”

Jaesa yanked free of Vinick’s grip and wheeled on him. “My master is _hurt_  and I need to _heal him_. What’re you _ **doing**_?!”

“Think, girl, what if he has the rakghoul plague?” Dellis snapped from behind the surviving guards. “It clearly cut deep enough.”

“He doesn’t!” Jaesa fired back vehemently.

“Forgive me if I’m not willing to risk all our lives on just your word,” Vinick sneered, grabbing for her arm again. “Not with _this_.”

Jaesa dodged his grasp and looked ready to protest further, so Tragen pushed himself mostly upright and added his two credits. “They’re... right.” Stars, talking hurt. Not as much as the fear in Jaesa’s eyes, but pretty close. “Jaesa...” He hissed a sharp breath and tried again. “Jaesa, you need to get the shuttle out of here.”

She dropped to one knee next to him again, and he could sense her worry when he held up a hand so she’d keep some distance. “But you’re hurt! And this is bad.”

He knew that much. “Let me... worry about that.” He pressed one arm over the wounds. “You get us back to the Fleet. Seal the cargo bay door in case I-”

“You _**won’t**_!” Jaesa cut him off forcefully.

“I don’t believe I will, either,” Tragen said, half-smiling at her passion. He truly hoped he wouldn’t. That was an ugly end. “But I won’t risk your life, or the lives we just saved, on that hope.”

“Tragen...” she said softly, hands curling into fists.

He didn’t scold for letting the facade slip. No one could hear them. “Seal the cargo bay door, and once you’re in the cockpit, seal that as well. Just in case they weren’t... weren’t telling us everything.”

Jaesa nodded, clearly not happy but willing to do as he asked. “Just... hold on.” Her hand drifted up as if to squeeze his or try to heal him, but she remembered and held it back as she stood.

_I’ll do my best._ He waited until the door had closed behind her to let out a loud hiss at the pain and call on Force to heal himself at least some. It wasn’t a focus of his, and he wasn’t nearly as strong with the Force as some, so he achieved neither the pure white radiance of Jaesa’s healing nor the menacing purple-black when his fellow Sith used it to pull themselves back together. Instead the energy that gathered in Tragen’s palm was a thin, flickering lavender. It didn’t do much, no matter how hard he concentrated, but he did feel some of the damage knit itself closed. 

Exhausted from the effort of what little he’d managed to accomplish, Tragen leaned back against the wall, breathing hard, and redirected his energy to staying awake. He wasn’t bleeding to death, that was sufficient for now. If he drifted off, there was no guarantee he would come to as _himself_ and that possibility scared him more than he wanted to admit. Especially to Jaesa, which made him extra glad she was sequestered in the cockpit.

_I can still feel you through our Force bond_ , her voice swirled through his mind.

_Damn. Forgot about that._ He chuckled, resisted the urge to close his eyes. _Just get back to the fleet as fast as you safely can. Don’t let me distract you._

Her reluctance and concern were palpable, but he did feel the intensity of her focus lessen.

In a bid to stay conscious, Tragen started mentally reviewing the mission. He ran over everything; what could’ve gone better, what could have gone _so much worse_. The last group of rakghouls they’d dispatched before collecting the nobles had nearly gotten him and Jaesa both. That would’ve been... well, he didn’t want to think about it. If he was the only one to get hurt, he could live with the way things had gone. Besides, assuming he didn’t... turn, his injuries were relatively easy to mend.

That was what he would focus on. Not the other part.

<><><>

In the end, his efforts proved futile. Pain, blood loss, and exhaustion all worked together to drag him into the welcoming embrace of unconsciousness.

Despite the seeds of concern planted by Vinick and the other nobles, Tragen woke very much himself. Relieved he hadn’t transformed into a monstrosity from the depths of civilization's worst nightmare, he shifted to a moderately more comfortable position and took stock of his surroundings.  He was in a medbay; probably Vaiken Spacedock, seeing as it was a large room with four other beds, and everything about it screamed _bare essentials_. Serviceable but basic, no luxury features, clearly meant for quick turnaround, whether due to recovery or death. Despite it being a shared room, he was the only current occupant. He appreciated _that_ almost as much as he did being right next to the large viewport displaying a truly dazzling quantity of stars. All his other concerns and questions were forgotten, just for a minute, as he turned to drink in the magnificent view.

“I figured you’d like that,” Jaesa’s voice came softly from behind him. “I know how much you love the stars.”

Tragen turned to give her a grateful smile. “You figured correctly. Thank you.”

She nodded, frozen in the doorway, arms hugged tight around herself. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

“That makes two of us,” he chuckled, sliding over so she had room to sit on the edge of the bed. “What happened?”

“After you passed out and scared me half to death, you mean?” Jaesa asked, eyebrow arching toward her hairline as she took him up on the unspoken invitation. “We made it back here without incident, and I warned them before we landed that we were fleeing a rakghoul infestation, so they were set up for quarantine by the time we docked. None of us, you included”--she shot him an _I told you so_ look--”showed any sign of carrying the plague, but we all got the vaccine to be safe.” She flashed a tremulous smile. “They actually gave you a double dose before they got you in the kolto tank. To be safe.”

So that was why there was barely a twinge in his side. “How long?”

“Just a day. Apparently it looked worse than it was. There are scars, but...”

“All healed?” Tragen finished for her.

“All healed,” Jaesa confirmed, giving his hand a tentative squeeze. “Just... next time try not to get so banged up.” The wavering smile was back. “I doubt I’d do well with a different master.”

He squeezed her hand in return and smiled. “Trust me, the experience is not one I’m eager to repeat. You’ll be stuck with me a good while yet. Apprentice.”

Her smile gained some confidence at the gentle teasing. “I’m relieved to hear it. Master.”

“So, where are the others?” Tragen asked after a few seconds.

“Around.” Jaesa gestured vaguely toward the hall, the movement pulling her hand free of his. “I told them it would probably only be a few days before you were ready to travel again so not to leave the fleet. Everyone’s doing their own thing. Oh, and Tyral Incorporated sends their sincerest apologies for putting us in harm’s way.”

He smirked. “Did you have a conversation with a corporate rep?”

“One full of apologies and promises of compensation,” she nodded. “She was most adamant Tyral Inc had no idea what had happened when they asked you to look into it.”

“I’m sure they didn’t. That’s why they wanted someone who could handle themselves; not knowing what had happened.” Tragen crackled his knuckles and looked out the viewport again. “And all’s well that ends well; there’s no hard feelings from me. Baras might be another story if he catches wind of what happened.” He sighed. “I suppose you should find someone who knows how long before I can leave and relay that to the others, so they can be preparing.”

“Of course.” Jaesa stood. “I’ll find out and let them know. I”m sure they’ll be glad to get back to business.” A half-smile. “Well, maybe not Vette. I think she’s having too much fun separating people from their money at pazaak. But everyone will be relieved to know you’re alright, master.”

“Thank you, Jaesa,” he said with a warm smile. “You’re doing an excellent job.”

“Just trying to follow your example,” she said shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear as she headed for the door.

_And doing an excellent job._ He didn’t say it--she didn’t need the point reiterated--just watched her leave. After even the echo of her footsteps was gone, Tragen slipped his hand under the loose medbay-issued tunic and ran his fingers up his ribcage until he found the ridges of fresh scar tissue. They _had_ healed much better than he would have expected.

All that was left for him to do, then, was rest until he was cleared to leave and thank his lucky stars the trio of new scars were all he had to show for tangling with several dozen rakghouls.

<><><>

It was only one more day before the medical staff deemed him fit to travel and Tragen made his way back to the _Empire Dawn_ and his waiting crew. Jaesa’s prediction had been correct; they were all happy to see him “back in fighting shape” as Pierce put it. Tyral had compensated generously for the danger and trouble--on top of footing the medical bills and promising to handle contacting families of the deceased--and Baras hadn’t seemed more than mildly disgruntled when informed his favorite underling was “indisposed”.

All in all, not a bad outcome for the amount of trouble he and Jaesa had found at the Twilight Paradise, Tragen decided. Not bad at all. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was loosely (and I mean _loosely_ )inspired by me being peeved there’s no story solo difficulty for Kaon Under Siege back when I wanted to throw rakghouls at Tragen, my then-newest child. This would be set somewhere mid- to late-Act 2, and the title is part pun, part me not being able to think of anything better.


End file.
